Ｄｅｌｉｒｉｕｍ
by dioscuricCaligina
Summary: It's a revolving joke. This must be a joke. Please be a joke. You want it to be a joke. It's not though, and it never was. There was nothing you could do, frozen in your chair in shock. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and what you expected to be a romantic evening had turned for the worst. You were face to face with a furious killer, trapped. Great. [Rated PG13 for language and gore]
1. Act One Prolouge

Back again! I was bored, so I decided to write my ol' fanfic from last year. There's some plot changes, and weird perspective stuff. Have an interesting time reading it, fellow. [Also, I changed the title to Delirium for now.]

**DELIRIUM**

[prologue]

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you know better than nothing is off to a decent ending, ever. Even a single day of remaining acervuline in your hive is too much to ask for.

Your horrid excuses of friends also happen to be your only friends, and you're always unsure of what to do with them, so you are typically the base of the conundrum against your will. How ironic, huh? It was a practical listlessness, a duty of yours as a once designated leader.

Peace doesn't happen on Alternia, or in the universe. Peace is a complex and foreign concept used to make you feel like complete and utter shit for what you had and engrave a restless dream in the cloud not a single troll or human or anything would have the audacity to endure once they discover the path is not sugar and sweets.

So you guessed a decent leader wouldn't brainwash their inferior members with that of which was never going to occur, and instead you guided them the only ways you knew how, and some of those pricks honestly have no idea how difficult and arduous it is to direct a full band of six clusterfucks, whether or not they listened.

And the only particular coaching you could execute a majority of the time was through an alloquy of aggressive grey text.

Not to mention the end of your efforts came to result in their capricious minds as much as nonsense as it was to you. There was no honest savors in a little lone boy trying to pull this nightmare together in just his scarred hands. But that's how it works on Alternia; you either keep your shit pulled together as much as possible or you just die.

The strict assets of survival on this planet means you either obey to the exactly codone correlations of a madwoman or you die. And you weren't going to let down and lose everything.

Six sweeps. You had gone for a little over six sweeps that millions wouldn't be able to abide, and you weren't going to become one of them. As much as a pain it was, you were going to prove that batterwitch wrong one day and outlive the odds to your best potential.

And you stuck with that philosophy, always and always.

All until the day of your death.


	2. Act One

[act one]

Not a single day was ever really just another normal day, however it was uneventful at the least. It was conciliating to you though. Boredom was equally as appeasing as the next death of another troll.

Speaking of which, a reason of your boredom had been the lack of availability of other trolls. You had actually heard a rumor not long ago that Eridan had gone missing. Oh for fucks sake, that little drama queen. Sollux told you it was because of some pathetic difficulty in winning over Aradia, which was ridiculous in the event that she was clearly already taken.

Although it was one of your priorities to eventually seek out some more specifics, because this had never happened before. It scared you as much as it angered you.

Oh, emotions. Eugh. More like eternal mental torture and a no thank you. It was honestly difficult to believe he had wandered off into his own little Alternian oblivion, but all grief starts with denial.

To take your mind off of this turmoil, you turned around and looked at out of the window above your door for no particular reason, the sky a typical shade of amaranth and slight fuschia, the air clad with clouds.

You were curled up in your seat, the circulation of your room just a little more cold than it's usual. The weather was extravagant in Alternia, which meant the circulation would only gradually grow colder. Your hair was still an unorganized mess, having only woke not too long ago and never caring much for your hair. The randomize strands of black did get in your eyes a few times, but it was nothing too drastic.

Your eyes fluttered for a second reviewing the availability once more of the other Trollian accounts, deciding to pester Eridan on a whim.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CG: I DO NOT WANT TO BE HEARING FROM YOU THAT THESE HOOFBEAST SHIT RUMORS ARE TRUE.

CG: DO NOT TELL ME THAT YOU ACTUALLY RAN OFF SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE.

CG: JEGUS FUCKING CHRIST.

CG: FINE. I'M TRYING TO TALK YOU, BUT JUST GO AHEAD AND IGNORE ME OUT OF YOUR OWN LONELINESS.

CG: BYE.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

What a fucking let down. So the rumors are true. He actually ran off because of another one of his failed quadrant attempts. But you knew that he would have to come back soon and have a tedious face-off with everyone else.

You dropped your head to your desk in an act of frustration, groaning with discontempt. This of course did not exactly pull a direct effect on you at the time, yet looking ahead to the possibilities of his future actions was not a lovely spectacle. If it was slightly drastic, he would breach the walls with gore for the very sake of his dear pantomime.

You know, you would expect this more from something with Feferi, not Aradia. Whatever. No one knows what goes around in his hopeless mind.

It's too much of a busying task having to prioritize with ourselves than having to waste time on someone that clearly wasn't going to ever be better and made huge fits about it. Eridan was truly the exact definition of an atrociously pretentious aristocrat, that one snotty kid that'd rather beat someone up out of anger and frustration than some tearshed of his own pity.

He just endorsed watching the world burn under his grasp.

But no one could really give two fucks about that blasted Ampora.

It was a bit later into the day, you had a few minor conversations, the one of largest significance being with Sollux. You had to admit of being a tad fond of him at the moment, and you basically invited him to your hive later in the day. After all, he was your current matesprit.

His presence would probably help you out in tensing down a few notches. You did hope that it wouldn't take long for him to arrive, and even more time passed now from when the conversation disengaged.

Maybe fooling around with your computer would keep you occupied in the time there was to wait. You didn't want to admit to the small spark of satisfaction igniting deep in your conscious, but it wasn't up to quit lingering around in you.

It wasn't you speaking, it was Sollux. This momentary satisfaction of a well maintained matespritship did fit a thread of satisfaction in your show of dysfunctionality. I mean, it was always nice getting to experience that inexplicable blithe always featured in movies. It did mean a lot to you and spoke words you just thought were impossible to conjure in reality.

Well, you were wrong again.

Still not much long later, continuing your bland activities, you began to hear some ruckus in the below of your hive, knowing that it was Sollux. You debated on going downstairs to get him, but since you unlocked your hive earlier for preparation, he wouldn't have a problem getting in and going to your room. It was actually a little fun.

You let out a short lived chuckle, which seemed quite odd. In a poor attempt to look unaware, already imagining how he'd approach you in a minute, you made a relaxed position that was coddled to your computer.

The plan was going like you wanted it to.

You could hear his footsteps coming up, closer and closer to your room until they were right out of your closed door. Oh, the enthusiastic atmosphere. He recklessly turned the doorknob, and it almost sounded like there was vague panting out of the door or something. Did something happen on the way?

Feet curling together in an anxious manner, you sunk down a bit more and your heart just skipped a beat when your door went creaking open, and body just froze, trying to rehabilitate your vision as your chair turned over, the blur going clear.

It wasn't Sollux.

All to your disbelief, it was Eridan.

Eridan fucking Ampora.

You know, that guy that went missing out of the blue that is now apparently only a few feet away from you, and looks pissed as all hell had gone loose?

Your shock was dictated beyond definition, mouth hanging open to the somber sight of a livid sea-dweller, not breaking the uncomfortable death glance he conjured, in which you failed but at least tried to exchange as a form of defense.

Oh god, who were you kidding? There was no hope now. You had to hold back the tears, and holy shit they were just boiling in the back of your eyes.

"Hello, bitch." He uttered in a discreetly haunting tone of voice you had never heard before, honestly more terrified than you have been your whole life, and that's saying something.

"..OH GREAT, THE LONELY HIPSTER. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?" Your voice almost cracked in mid-sentence, but tension was just awaiting. You could feel it in the air, on your skin, in everything.

You stood up and pushed your chair behind, raising an eyebrow at him. You were so fucked, so it wasn't really worth trying to get out of it anymore.

His glance was only growing more condescending as the seconds went on, and it seemed like he was reaching for something out of one of his pockets, could it be a weapon? Apparently not. He just strode a step closer to you, baring his gleaming shark teeth.

"Shut your fuckin' trap." He growled precociously in that sudden voice.

"Isn't it fuckin' obvious by now, or are you really just that stupid? I want you DEAD." Eridans head lowered, as if he didn't already looked petrifying enough.

"..And now, no one can save you."

Something went off in you in that sentence. It was 'I want you dead'. The wicked nostalgia that erupted just tore you off to the edge, using a minor retreat as your last hope, pace backing up in the chair idiotically with your eyes dead open.

Of course it took a looong split second to take notice of your heel being alarmingly close to the seat while continuing to back up on instinct, however you made just the wrong move that caused you to collapse back and wince in the pain surging your nerves, your eyes opening back up hoping this was just a bad dream.

If this is a dream, you've never had such a realistic one, because this met the basic standards of what you've had to deal with before.

Perhaps a pinch to the skin or a few wounds would wake you up for once.

"D-DEAD…? WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU? WE EVEN HAD A PACT AT ONE POINT, YOU SELFISH PRICK." And just with that last string of faith and courage you had, the last string of something went off in the highblood also, because he didn't respond.

His silence was actually far more disturbing than hearing that demented voice of his. It meant that he was thinking, that the cogs were turning, and he was processing just what would happen next. You were officially his putty, his puppet, mind blank with panic that fiercely pumped your heart and let the crimson blood run through your body in a rush. Out of the silence, you thought you heard an acute cackling noise coming from Eridan, however his mouth was sewn shut.

His head bobbed up and down in rhythm with the hackling laughter stored in his throat, not even so much as grinning during it all. The laughter steadily died down as his footsteps grew closer to you, looking down as you tried to back up your legs into your chest.

Eridans hands remained behind his back in all this time after reaching in his pocket, and now the sea-dwellers hand appeared to be rummaging behind there.

"..Of course, an ignoramus like you would never be able to decode such a simple complex of damn thought. And now…"

It was all playing out to accordingly, and yet the unpredictability was still so alarming. Your eyes were finally watering, but thankfully no tears had came out yet.

For the first time you had ever or any troll saw whatsoever, you saw Eridan smile. It wasn't a pleasing smile that resonated azaleas and joy, it was obviously the grin of a blood lusting Alternian slaughter machine, and you knew the grin well.

He was actually right. He got it fucking spot on. You were just a huge idiot, a naive little kid that yelled at everyone to appear spiteful and relevant.

"And do you think you have the authority to speak to a highblood with that illicit language, MUTANT BLOOD?" Wait wait wait, how the everloving hell did he find out about that..?

Oh well, that didn't matter because he had been wielding a simple dagger and dove down, his cold hand mangling your arm and jagging the weapon into your skin, and it dug down deep, the wave of pain causing you to whimper and tears to be released. All restraint was lost, and he was milking at that arm, just watching your bright red blood pour down your skin to the nearest surface. He maintained this stare that he once again was responsible for.

"Red, the runt of the hemospectrum, the little dirty secret you carry day to day that facilitates your useless rage. You should be ashamed, fuckin lowblood."

This was all your fault. It was always your fault. You're such a failure of a friend, and such a failure at life. After these many sweeps of assholery shenanigans, you were receiving the ultimate penalty;death. You felt that final acceptance, that final weakness, the final piece that just drove you over the edge. If death be your fate, than what was there to do and deny it? You were slowly dying on the inside, slipping away in a nirvana fueled by delirious pain.

Eridan turned over your arm in this process, figuring more blood would be contracted from cutting at the veins and make you grow uncomfortable further in agony.

After a deep incision in your wrist, the deepest laceration he had performed so far, he finally retracted the dagger, yet you saw it going at you again, until Eridans face was eerily close to yours, dagger steadily digging in your neck until it found home in the bottom of your chin.

"Speak. Speak to me, inferior lowblood shit."

You just observed every single detail visible in the madmans eyes, and even just a brief look at them could determine he was fed up.

Still in a last attempt to ignore the stinging pain, looking down at the dagger that was caked with blood and then the troll of its possession, you spoke in a sickly weak voice that wasn't yours, reciting the fact this all seemed like a maudlin play.

"...Go ahead. Do it. Kill me. If that's what you want, so be it."

You spoke in an out of character barely audible whisper that was somehow damned filled with confidence. I guess just it just seemed so tough to accept your death, but it really wasn't once a blade was up to your neck.

The repeated silence meant the end was really ahead, and you were seriously going to die in a few minutes. He didn't blink. His eyes didn't move, nor did any part of his body. It was like an adrenaline fueled trance of sadism.

You tensed down only the smallest viable bit when at that exact moment, he dug the dagger down, plummeting it into your throat in such a way you couldn't speak, but body language read terror for the most.

The last thing you remember is that your body tensed to the small ability it could, eyes agape and hands curling up all up to a climax of pain, your murderer depositing it slow as possible to see you wither in utter misery, and the world just slipped aways like sleep.

The last thing you heard was a whisper you could not decipher, a practical gibberish.

The last thing you felt was his cold, blood soaked hand put a bit of pressure over your un-maimed wrist.

The last thing you thought was why, why had he chose you?

What did you even have to do with this?

Whatever, you were practically dead anyways…

The world began to tune out.

Another silence slipped into the air.

And just like that..

You, Karkat Vantas, had just died.


	3. Act Two Prolouge

[act two prologue]

There really was nothing much to death, nothing much like any depressed poets may claim. You really don't remember death, but it had no profile of definition. You had heard thought that after trolls die, they are re-incarnated as them dead selves.

However there was something about death that has its ways on certain people, and it really just filled you with inexorable tranquility. Of course in the event of being an unwary spiritual matter wandering the bouts of purgatory, there was no necessary reason to carry on with helpless pigmentation of personalities known as emotion.

It ruined you, so you thought this would be good. I mean, your emotional spouts lead to your death, so it did seem to be troublesome. But this really was it. This was a final chance you were given to straighten things out and be a true to heart leader, a true to heart person.

You were a tad curious about what was going on now. Like if Eridan had possibly murdered another troll on his path to you, like Sollux. You really hoped he didn't kill Sollux, but it's another one of those desperate hopes to abandon. It was sure to happen.

There was no telling what would happen next unless you were him.


End file.
